


Anxious

by Ellie226



Series: Mark/El [25]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, F/M, Spanking, self injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody slips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anxious

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for self injury and references to mental illness.

When I got home from the shower, I went into the bedroom first. Daddy called after me, asking about the shower, but I didn’t answer that question.

I did bother to shout to him, “I’m changing into something more comfortable. I’ll be out in a minute.” Closing the door to the bedroom behind me, I quickly shucked my dress and tights, pulling on yoga pants and several tank tops. I looked at the loose black cardigan I liked to use when it was cold, but I was just putting off the inevitable.

I walked over to Daddy’s side of the bed and pulled the box out from underneath. Liberating the spoon, I pushed the box back to where it had been. I started to walk out the door, but I stopped, backtracking to the bed. Grabbing Stella, I squared my shoulders and walked down to the living room.

He was sitting on the couch, watching a football game. “How was the shower?” he asked, focused on the screen.

I walked over to stand in front of him, holding the spoon out. “Can we cuddle first?” I asked.

He took the spoon, setting it onto the table next to him. Turning off the television, the remote went next to the spoon. Then he held out his arms to me.

Crawling up onto his lap, I curled against him, thumb in my mouth. Daddy waited, rubbing my back.

“You’re lucky,” I told him.

“Hmmmm?”

“Men don’t have to go to them. Showers suck. Bridal aren’t as bad as baby, but they’re all boring and tedious.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still waiting.

After I’d gotten as calm as I could before a spanking, I pulled away. Showing him the palms of my hands, I held still as he gently traced the nail marks.

“What happened?”

“Got scared,” I whispered, caught somewhere between shame and numbness. It had happened. We had to deal with it. I wished things were different, but they weren’t.

“Why?”

I shrugged, feeling the tears now. “I just got nervous. Anxious. And I couldn’t stop thinking and thinking. And I was waiting for something bad to happen.”

“What?” his voice was quiet, calm. Patient. 

“I don’t know,” now I was sniffling too. That tone always did me in. “Just something. And I couldn’t stop thinking.”

“So you did this?” his fingers ran gently over the mark, and I nodded. “Alright. Let’s go wash these out then princess.”

“They’re not deep,” I protested, trying to lean back forward to snuggle against him. I didn’t want to see his face. I just wanted to try to capture that moment when I felt perfectly safe.

“We’re cleaning them out. Up baby,” he stood my resisting body up, and then stood. Holding my arms up, I clung to him, face buried into the space where his neck met his shoulder. Breathing in the scent of clean laundry and grass, I tried to put the thought of what was coming out of my mind.

I couldn’t. Settled onto the counter, he grabbed the first aid kit and began washing out the cuts on my palms. I’d barely broken the skin for most of them, but I still hissed at the sting. I always hated it when he had to do this, but I was dreading what was coming after even more.

He wrapped both hands in gauze. “We’ll change it at bath time,” he said, gently kissing the bandages on both palms. “Good?”

I nodded, trying not to cry. 

“Ready?”

I nodded again, holding out my arms so he could carry me. If I was going to have to stay close, which I always did after a “relapse” as Daddy called them, I might as well enjoy the good parts.

Toting me to the living room, he sat back on the couch. “Do you need more cuddles, or shall we get it over with?”

“Can I have more cuddles afterward?”

Daddy nodded, “You know you can.”

I stood and slowly slid my yoga pants down. I wished I had bothered to throw on underwear underneath the pants, but it was too late for that now.

Daddy’s hands were gentle as he helped me position myself across his lap. Grabbing Stella, I hugged her tightly against my face. Daddy patted my butt gently.

“Why are we here?”

“I’m not ‘llowed to hurt myself,” I mumbled, my voice muffled. 

I hated these spankings; nothing made me feel like more of a failure than to be face down over Daddy’s knee, getting spanked once again for hurting myself. Like I was too dumb to learn, no matter how many times we did this. 

The only good thing that I could say was that they were always the same. I knew exactly what to expect, and Daddy never failed to deliver.

His hard hand was soon smacking down. He didn’t even bother to lecture this time. He just spanked until I was squirming and whimpering. 

Then it was time for the spoon. It hurt as much as ever, and I was soon kicking and begging. That’s when the lectured started.

“You are not allowed to hurt yourself.”

If I hadn’t been feeling like my ass was about to fall off, I probably would have rolled my eyes. Or pointed out the ridiculousness of telling me not to hurt myself when he was very much hurting me.

It was the standard lecture. I wasn’t allowed to hurt myself. I was supposed to use the skills that I’d worked on with Dr. Finnegan. Blah blah right back here Eleanor blah.

Once I was sobbing hysterically, it stopped. Daddy picked me up and rocked me gently until I stopped crying. 

“Hurts?” he asked.

I snorted at that. I might be in pain, but that didn’t mean my sarcasm was completely gone. “Feels awesome. You want to try switching places?”

He smiled at me as he helped me to my feet. Gently pulling my pants back up, he wiped at my cheeks. 

“What are you going to do next time?”

I wanted to have an answer. Something that I really felt like I could do, not just something I said to make him feel better. Picking Stella up from where she had been abandoned in favor of Daddy cuddles, I hugged her to me and thought. Finally, I told him the only thing that was true. “I don’t know.”


End file.
